


Case Notes

by lorcaswhisky (aristofranes)



Category: Star Trek: Discovery
Genre: Balayna deserved better, Drastic Measures compliant, Gen, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, aftermath of tarsus iv, questionable professional decisions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-06
Packaged: 2019-06-22 17:50:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15587373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aristofranes/pseuds/lorcaswhisky
Summary: Against her better judgement, Dr Katrina Cornwell agrees to take on one last case.(Fic prompt)





	Case Notes

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LizBee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizBee/gifts).



> Based on a prompt from LizBee, who requested Kat and Gabriel in the aftermath of Tarsus IV. And, well. I do like an excuse to make Gabriel miserable...
> 
> Caveat: I'm not a professional psychiatrist. But arguably, neither is Kat in this particular scenario. So it probably balances out.

Kat stared at the name at the top of the file that had just landed on her desk.

“No. Absolutely not,” she said. Too quickly. Dr Holmes raised an eyebrow.

“Oh? Why not?”

_ Because we've been sleeping together on and off for - shit - a  _ decade _ now. Because the last time we broke up - yes, I did say  _ ‘last time’ _ , yes, I am familiar with the old saying about doing the same thing over and over again - he called me a quack and I called him a glorified security guard and then we both called each other much worse things and then the next thing I heard he'd run off to some outpost in the middle of nowhere without even saying goodbye. Because after I heard about the incident on Tarsus IV I tried to get hold of him, but he ignored every single one of my messages and in the confused mess of reports coming back from the surface I thought he must have died until Pippa mentioned that they'd been on the same damn ship out of there and-- _

“I only have a few months left until I start Command training. I'm trying to wind down my practice, you know that,” she said instead. “I'm in no position to take on new cases.”

“I'm aware of that, but the Commander requested you specifically.”

“He reque--"  _ It's just that you're the only psychiatrist he knows. He thinks you'll be a soft touch.  _ “I … can't. I'm sorry.”

“Very well. I'll reassign his case. It may be a while until someone is available to see him, though. You're leaving us with some pretty big boots to fill.”

_ He won't wait. Not if he really has got to the point where he's looking to a - a quack for help. He'll just run away again. _

Kat groaned. 

This was a terrible idea. Ethically, professionally, morally, emotionally … just a terrible, terrible idea.

“Alright. Fine. Last case.”

As Dr Holmes left her office, Kat pulled the PADD towards her and looked again at the name at the top of the file.

_ LORCA, G. _

*

After fifteen minutes of completely one-sided attempts at conversation, during which Gabriel had done little more than stare resolutely at the patch of carpet in between them, Kat sighed. 

“I’m a psychiatrist, not a psychic.” 

“Same thing, isn’t it?” 

The first thing he'd said since setting foot in her office. A dig at her profession. Of course.

“What are you hoping these sessions will help you achieve?” Kat asked, trying to keep her tone even. “Why are you here?”

Hunched over in his chair, elbows on his knees, hands clasped, he sighed. Remained still, except for the finger tapping a drumbeat against the knuckle of his other hand.

“Captain gave me an ultimatum. Talk to a shrink, or lose my commission.” Gabriel shrugged. “Just want to get back to work.”

“OK. And why did the Captain give you this … ultimatum?”

“You’ve got my file right there.”

Kat sighed.

“On return from Tarsus IV you reported to Starbase 11 for debriefing and psychological evaluation. Once cleared for active duty, you were posted to the  _ Hawking,  _ but within a couple weeks you were placed on report by your CO for persistent lateness and miscellaneous uniform violations,” she read flatly. That would have been enough for her - for any of his friends - to realise something was wrong, if he hadn't done such a good job of shutting himself off from all of them. “Various other complaints follow, including several for disorderly conduct, culminating in you starting a brawl in the mess hall and striking a superior officer--”

“He asked for it.”

His knuckles were still showing signs of bruising, she noted.

“ _ Jesus _ , Gabriel.”

He looked up at that, briefly. Like he was surprised he’d managed to shock her. Then back to the floor again. 

Kat pressed her fingertips against her eyelids and took a deep breath.  _ He’s just another patient. Treat him like one.  _ Treat _ him.  _

“Alright, let’s start again. Three months ago, you were witness to a - horrific act of violence. You nearly died in the subsequent attempt to bring the perpetrator to justice.”

“Now I’m starting fights and I’m one false move away from being thrown out of the ‘Fleet altogether. Amazing. I feel better already. How many years did you have to study for that kind of insight,  _ doc _ ?” 

Kat folded her hands on her lap in what she hoped was a passable imitation of calm.

“You asked to see me,  _ Commander _ . Not the other way around.”

He scoffed at that, shaking his head. 

“‘Attempt’ is right,” he muttered, seemingly unable to stop himself. “‘ _ Attempt _ to bring the perpetrator to justice’. He  _ murdered _ her, and I watched, and then I couldn't even get justice for her--”

“Who?”

Kat recalled a detail from his case notes that had struck her.

_ ‘...Lt. Commander Lorca made reference to feeling as though he had ‘failed’ one person specifically, but when pressed refused to make any further comment and suggested it was ‘unimportant’ and ‘irrelevant to [his] ability to carry out [his] job...’ _

“You said ‘her’. Who do you mean, Gabriel?”

He looked away again, body language closed off, defensive. Silent. 

“OK - you know what, let’s just … call it a day,” said Kat, at last, trying to hide her frustration. “We can pick this up at our next session. If you want a next session.”

She stood up, crossed her office towards the door. 

“I cheated,” Gabriel said abruptly. “On my psych evals.”

Kat stopped, hand on the door controls. 

“You…”

“Years of listening to you revising.” He laughed, but it was hollow. “Knew what they wanted to hear, so I gave it to them. I lied.”

He raked a hand through his hair.

“I just wanted to get back to work. Thought it’d be alright if I had - something else to think about. But it wasn't, and now I  _ can't _ work, and I can't  _ think _ , and--”

He looked away, blinking rapidly a few times. She saw the muscles in the side of his face clench.

“I asked to see you because … you're just about the only person I can't lie to. Because you’d see right through it,” he said eventually. “And because I figured you wouldn't waste your time on a total asshole. A lost cause.”

“I don’t think you’re a lost cause,” said Kat softly. “An asshole, yes. But that’s nothing new.”

“That your professional opinion?”

“My extremely professional opinion.” 

He laughed. Properly, this time. Ran a hand over his stubbled chin.

“Well, that's something, I guess,” he said quietly.

He smiled. It was a small smile, tired and uncertain, but real.

“I wanted to kill him,” he said, the smile flickering out. “Kodos. The explosion was an accident, but … I  _ wanted  _ to kill him. I thought it would stop once he was dead. But it didn't.”

“Thought what would stop?”

His brow furrowed.

“The - it's like buzzing. In my head. My chest, maybe. Rage. I can feel it. It -  _ hurts _ . And I can't stop it. And I'm…” He swallowed. “I'm so scared, Kat.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I thought I had all these principles. All this training to de-escalate conflict, find better solutions. But when it came down to it, when I had to make a choice, when I had to find a solution, I … didn't live up to any of it. Couldn’t. I chose violence,” he said, hoarse. “And I'm scared that maybe … maybe I was always like this. That this is what I really am.”

Kat sat down again. Leant forward, mirroring his pose, elbows on her knees. Somehow resisted the urge to close the small distance between them by taking his hands in hers. 

_ Just another patient.  _

“And the fact that you're afraid of this? That you're worried about it?” she asked. “What do you think that shows?”

He didn't answer, but when his eyes flicked to hers there was - something that hadn't been there earlier. Hope. Faint and faltering. But hope.

“I think I can help. If you'll let me,” said Kat. “If you want to.”

He nodded.

Kat sat back and exhaled.

“So. Where do you want to start?”

Gabriel looked out of the window for a while. Chewed at a fingernail. 

Eventually, he took a deep breath.

“Her name was Balayna.”

**Author's Note:**

> I briefly touched on this idea in _The Buran_ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/14124849) but was never really happy with the way I dealt with it. So it's nice to have an opportunity to expand on it a bit here.
> 
> Comments/more prompts always welcome!


End file.
